


you belong somewhere you feel free

by gilligankane



Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [7]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, F/F, Gen, Mixtape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 09:42:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12430122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: Purgatory is home, Nicole thinks. But so is Waverly. In the time is takes her to breathe in, she knows she’ll go wherever Waverly goes - the promise of Sheriff and living in the only place she’s ever known be damned. I’ll go where she goes, she tells herself. Faithfully.





	you belong somewhere you feel free

**Author's Note:**

> Another Friday, another 80's Wayhaught installment. This one was started following the passing of Tom Petty; if anyone belongs among the Wildflowers, it's him.
> 
> This takes place in the summer of 1994, before, during, and after Waverly's graduation. Waverly is 21, Nicole is 23.

**"Wildflowers" Tom Petty, 1994**  
_ You belong among the wildflowers. You belong in a boat out at sea. You belong with your love on your arm. You belong somewhere you feel free. _

“Out of service, Linda,” Nicole calls into her radio. She doesn’t wait for Linda’s response; she turns up the radio and puts the cruiser window down to listen for it as she jogs towards the phone booth outside of Cal’s.

She’s got one of those mobile phones in the car, a Nokia 1011 that Wynonna bought her for birthday last year, but she hasn’t turned it on in months. Perry keeps telling her she needs to get with the times, but Nicole loves the phone booth outside of Cal’s Corner too much to get into it right now. She picks up the receiver and the weight is familiar in her hand. She listens to the metallic clang of the coins going into the slot and down into the holding box. The dial tone beeps in her ear and it sounds almost as good as that first sigh Waverly breathes across the line; the soft  _ beep beep beep _  is the first note of every phone call and she wouldn’t trade that just to be able to sit in her car on the phone or save herself some coins.

She shuts off the alarm on her new Casio, the sleek, black DW-6500 she bought to replace her F-91W after Carl Junger broke it resisting arrest. She drops her coins into the terminal and dials Waverly’s number, her fingers skipping over the keypad effortlessly.

“Hello?” Waverly asks breathlessly. “The Sign” by Ace of Base is blasting in the background.

Nicole sighs softly, winding the phone cord around her wrist. “Hey, baby. You busy?”

“No, I’m- Wait a second.” The music dies quickly and then Waverly is in her ear again, breathing hard. “Hi.”

“Am I interrupting?” Nicole asks.

“No,” Waverly says quickly. “I was just putting some finishing touches on my final paper and I was working on my board.”

Nicole grins. Waverly had shown her the board before, back when it was just a few pieces of paper. The picture she got in Waverly’s letter last week had been more than just  _ a few  _ pieces of paper; the board had spawned and there were documents about Mary Katherine Haroney thumbtacked to every available inch of corkboard. Waverly had explained her system on the phone last week: red string connected her primary documents; blue string zigzaged from one secondary document to the next; yellow string linked all of the timeline pieces she wanted to include.

“Still talking about Big Nose Kate in your sleep?” Nicole asks teasingly.

Waverly huffs into her ear. “Are you making fun of my paper?”

“I’m making fun of the fact that you’re so kirked out over this paper that you’re talking about Big Nose Kate Haroney in your sleep,” Nicole corrects. She grins and looks down at her Oxfords, kicking the concrete beneath her feet.

“She’s really interesting,” Waverly defends.

Nicole peers around the open door of the phone booth, checking to make sure none of the kids riding their bikes in the street are too close to her cruiser. It’s nearly the end of May and the days are getting longer, kids piling out into the street on their ‘93 KHS Montana Supers and their ‘94 Mongoose Villains. Nicole had pulled a brand new ‘94 Huffy Cyclone out from under her tires just last week, when Todd Franchock tried to jump a curb and hit the pavement instead, his bike skidding across the road as Nicole drove by.

“You make her sound like she is,” Nicole agrees.

“I-” Waverly stops and sighs softly. “Well, I can’t yell at you when you’re being sweet like that.”

“That’s always my plan,” Nicole sings. She leans back against the wall of the booth. “Less than a week, now.”

Waverly groans. Something scratches on the other end of the line as Waverly moves around. Nicole listens carefully. She can hear the creak of Waverly’s desk chair as she rocks it back, the scrape of the wood on the tile. She can hear the soft groan of the bed springs as Waverly climbs up onto her mattress, and the rustle of fabric as the comforter moves.

“That excited, huh?” Nicole asks.

“I’m not  _ not _  excited,” Waverly says quickly. “I’m just…” She sighs. “I can’t believe it’s over. I feel like it just started. And now it’s over and I’m coming back to Purgatory in a week and this whole part of my life is… over.”

Nicole chews at her bottom lip between her teeth, suddenly worried by the heaviness in Waverly’s voice.

“And then the  _ rest _  of my life can start,” Waverly continues.

Nicole straightens up, her heart thudding. “The rest of it, huh?”

Waverly laughs prettily. “The good stuff.”

“Oh, you mean taking Killer Miller down a few notches, getting drunk for the first time, chasing Earl around campus on a stolen bicycle, and shutting down that hotdogger who kept harassing you wasn’t ‘the good stuff’?” Nicole asks.

“There’s better stuff,” Waverly says, her voice high.

“Like what?” Nicole asks in a whisper.

Waverly is quiet for a moment. “Guess you’ll just have to stay with me and find out,” she whispers back.

Nicole’s heart flutters rapidly in her chest. “Deal,” she breathes out.

Waverly is quiet again. Nicole can hear the radio playing softly in the background, “The Power of Love” by Celine Dion now. She taps her fingers against her thigh to the beat and pulls at the starched collar of her uniform. She had brushed off her uniform this morning, but Styx is in the middle of blowing his coat out and there’s fine black-brown-white hair all over his seat in her cruiser. When the days start to get longer, he sheds twice as fast; it’s her least favorite time of the year. She picks a piece from the front pocket of her shirt and blows it off the tip of her finger.

“How was your day?” Waverly finally asks.

Nicole sighs and leans back against the side of the booth. “I finally convinced Nedley that we need to reorganize our file room. So he’s going to let me sort it by year, incident-type, and status, instead of our current ‘it is where everywhere Lonnie stuck it’ system.”

Waverly’s voice drops low. “And has he said anything about being Sheriff again?”

Nicole feels a flash of red across her cheeks and down her chest. “He mentioned it, yeah.”

Waverly squeals in her ear, loud and piercing. “That’s  _ way cool _ , babe.”

“He only  _ mentioned  _ it. Anything can change in ten years,” Nicole argues weakly.

_ Like, where do we go from here? _  she thinks.

“Baby,” Waverly says in a firm voice. The same voice she uses when she wants Nicole to take her seriously; the same voice she used when she wanted to learn to ride a bike and when she wanted to be allowed to go into Nicole and Wynonna’s secret hideout and when she wanted to kiss Nicole and when they were in the car at Christmas.

“Waves.”

“ _ Baby _ ,” Waverly says again. “It’s a mega deal.” She sighs dreamily. “My baby’s gonna be the Sheriff someday."

“ _ Someday _ ,” Nicole repeats firmly. “And it’s not, like, for sure. He just casually mentioned he was going to be thinking of me.”

“ _ Twice,”  _ Waverly says. “He said it  _ twice _ . It’s means something. You’ll see.”

Nicole hums and lifts her hand to bite at her fingernail, but stops before it gets to her mouth. She slides her hand into her pocket instead and picks at a loose thread she can feel between her fingers. She listens to Waverly sing along to “Turn The Beat Around” playing on the radio.

“Samoan Sand or Bali Blossom?” Waverly asks.

Nicole frowns. “What?”

“I’m painting my toenails. Do I paint them Samoan Sand or Bali Blossom?”

Nicole shrugs before she remembers Waverly can’t see her. “What color is Samoan Sand?”

“It’s like cream sand.”

“Cream sand,” Nicole repeats.

“That’s what it looks like,” Waverly argues. “And Bali Blossom is pink. Hot pink.”

Nicole tips her head to the side, cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear. “Bali- the hot pink one,” she decides.

Waverly hums in her ear. “Okay.” She pauses. “You’re still coming for graduation, right?”

Nicole wants to tease Waverly and tell her that a shift switch happened; that Nedley wouldn’t grant her the time; that Gus and her flipped a coin to see who would stay behind and run The Patch, but there’s a weight to Waverly’s words, a seriousness to her voice that makes Nicole pause before she answer.

“Of course I am,” she says softly. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“What about if Def Leppard was throwing a concert the same day?”

Nicole groans and rolls her eyes. “Waverly.”

“What if Starship was giving out signed copies of  _ Knee Deep in the Hoopla _ , one day only?”

“Waverly,” Nicole tries again.

“What if Nedley wanted to deputize Styx and he could only do it next Saturday?”

“Waves.”

“ _ What if _ ,” Waverly continues over her. “What if Mattie’s was going out of business and she was going to throw all of her cassettes away and you could save them if you went on Saturday and bought them all?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Nicole says, laughing. “Mattie would never get rid of the cassettes.”

Waverly snorts. “But Nedley would deputize Styx?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He loves that damn dog. No matter what he tries to tell everyone.”

“I love that dog’s mom,” Waverly says sweetly.

Nicole grins. “Well, what do you know. So do I.”

“You’re a dork, Nicole Haught,” Waverly says.

“I’m  _ your  _ dork,” Nicole fires back.

Waverly groans in her ear.

“I’m coming to graduation,” Nicole finally says. She watches a kid on an old ‘88 Huffy Vortex start to lose control of the front end of his bike and weave dangerously towards her cruiser. She leans out of the booth. “Cub Doucette, you better not hit my car!”

Cub, Linda’s grandson, looks up and swerves away from her cruiser. “Sorry, Officer Haught!”

“I’m coming to graduation,” she repeats as she pulls the receiver back to her mouth. “And Gus is going to drive down in Curtis’s truck so we can take all of your things back.”

“Are you bringing Styx?” Waverly asks hopefully.

Nicole snorts. “No. He’s going to stay with Nedley for the day.”

Waverly huffs. “Fine, then.”

Cub, still on the road by her cruiser, starts waving at her. Nicole pokes her head around the booth again and nods at him. “Grammy is callin’ for you,” he shouts.

Nicole sighs.

“You gotta jet?” Waverly asks.

“Sorry, baby. Linda wouldn’t radio in if it wasn’t important.”

Waverly sighs. “I should get back to Big Nose Kate, anyway.”

Nicole checks the date on her watch. “Your presentation is in two days.”

“I’ll have the paper all finished by then,” Waverly says. “My presentation might need some work.”

Cub is still standing next to her cruiser, looking pointedly between the front seat and Nicole. She holds up a finger in his direction.

“Why don’t I call you tomorrow and you can pitch it to me?”

She can practically hear Waverly frown on the other end of the line. “Don’t you have dinner with Nathan and your mom tomorrow?”

Nicole shrugs. “I can skip one family dinner for you to practice the biggest presentation of your life.”

Waverly groans. “God, don’t say it like that. But okay,” she says shyly. “I’d like that.”

“ _ Clutch _ .”

Cub starts waving at her again and Nicole groans. “Baby, I gotta motor. Cub is about to pass out if I don't pick up this radio.”

Waverly sighs in her ear. “Okay, okay. I love you,” she says.

Nicole grins and kicks a the concrete again. “I love you, too, Waves.” She never gets tired of saying that. “Make sure you get some sleep? And eat some real food. Gus is worried.”

Waverly snorts and hangs up, her breathing replaced by a soft dial tone.

“Officer Haught!”

Nicole hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath.

“My Grammy said she’ll come out from ‘hind that desk and kick you in the rear if you don't answer your radio!” Cub shouts.

Nicole rolls her eyes but jogs back to her cruiser, already wishing tomorrow would come sooner.

 

-

Nicole looks down when Styx presses his wet snout to her hand. She grins and scratches him behind the ears. “You sure about this, Sheriff?”

Nedley scoffs, his eyebrows pulled together. “It’s not like I haven’t spent time with the mutt before.”

Nicole hides her laughter under a cough. “Right, sir. I was just double-checkin’.”

Nedley claps his palm flat against his thigh and Styx’s ears perk. Nedley does it again and Styx trots to his side, sitting tall at his feet. Nedley looks up at Nicole, his face daring her to say something.

She bites down on her bottom lip instead and puts on her best serious face, the one she used to practice in front of Waverly before big presentations and when we she wanted a raise on her allowance. She nods at Nedley and kneels down into the grass, ignoring the morning dew seeping through the denim of her jeans. Styx waits patiently until she clicks her tongue and then he bounds across the grass, stopping short in front of her. Nicole buries her face in his neck and pulls back with a mouthful of dog hair.

“Be a good boy, okay? And don’t let the Sheriff listen to too much Ronnie Milsap.” She doesn’t glance up at the Sheriff’s sharp noise of protest. “I  _ know _  he says you like ‘Smokey Mountain Rain’ but just remember you’re more of a ‘Come Sail Away’ kind of dog, okay?”

Styx licks her chin.

“Exactly.” She stands up and nods at Nedley, handing him the duffel she had dropped at her feet earlier. “Some toys, some food. His favorite water bowl. Oh, I put his-”

“Haught,” Nedley says sharply. “It’s only a few hours while you go to Waverly’s graduation. And besides, I bought him a new squeaker. It’s shaped like a moose,” he adds, his voice tapering off.

Nicole nods. “He’ll love it, sir.”

Nedley claps his hand against his thigh again and Styx goes to him easily. “We’ll be fine here. Go see that girl of yours.”

Nicole grins widely. “Will do, sir.” She wiggles her fingers at Styx and fishes her keys out of her jacket, spinning them around her finger. She gets into the driver’s seat and lingers at the curb for a minute, watching Nedley and Styx going into the house, Styx running ahead and waiting at the top step. She shakes her head slowly.

She checks her watch and turns on her car. She’s got to be at the McCready house in the next five minutes if they’re going to leave on time. She peels off the curb and winces at the squeal of her tires.

“Fina-fucking-ly,” Wynonna shouts when Nicole pulls into the McCreadys’ driveway. She jumps down off the steps and slaps her hand down on the hood of Nicole’s car.

Nicole leans out of her window. “Wynonna, don’t.”

Wynonna ignores her. “Dude, Gus is having an aneurysm.”

Gus, coming down the stairs behind Wynonna, rolls her eyes. “I’m not the one who's been runnin’ around screaming ‘ _ Graduation Day _ ’ like a chicken with my head cut off.”

Wynonna frowns. “Can a chicken without a head scream?”

Gus pushes at Wynonna’s shoulder. “Get in the car, girl."

Wynonna scowls. “I’m just excited. She’s  _ finally _  done. She’s coming  _ home _ .”

“Well, I’m sure Nicole is excited, too,” Gus says slowly. “But she wasn’t banging on my bedroom door at 4 in the morning, now was she?”

Nicole feels her cheeks flush. She might not have been banging on Gus’s bedroom door at 4 in the morning, but she  _ was _  up cleaning her apartment and building the desk she bought for Waverly to use on the nights she wants to stay over.

They’ve talked about getting their own place, one to call  _ theirs _ , but they still haven’t talked about  _ where, _  and Nicole figures it can’t hurt to make her apartment as much of Waverly’s as possible until then.

Wynonna shrugs, the fringe of her new leather jacket waving with the movement. “Are we going or what?”

Nicole nods towards the passenger door.

Gus pats her softly on the arm. “Thank you. She’s driving me  _ nuts _ .”

“No problem,” Nicole says. “But she’s riding back with you.”

Gus considers it for a moment before she nods. “I suppose that’d be fine.”

Wynonna groans as she pulls the passenger door open. “Why don’t you ever vacuum this thing?”

Nicole frowns. “I did. Yesterday.”

She had vacuumed every inch of the interior, wiping down everything with the bottle of Leather Honey she picked up from the hardware store. She put her Bon Sonic on the front porch rail and a stack of tapes next to it: “Purple Rain” by Prince, Ratt’s “Out of the Cellar”, “Ride the Lightning” by Metallica, and “G N’ R Lies” by Guns N’ Roses, for Styx. He had laid on the top step while she polished the rims, the fenders, and the front grill. She had washed the body in warm, soapy water and let Styx chase the spray from the hose.

“Then you need to stop letting Styx sit in the front seat,” Wynonna grumbles.

Nicole snorts. “Sure.  _ You _  tell him that.”

Wynonna brushes a flat hand across the passenger seat, pushing most of the dog hair out of the car. “That damn dog is so spoiled,” she says.

Nicole rolls her eyes; if Wynonna wants to pretend she doesn’t sneak Styx scraps of meat when he spends the day at The Patch, that’s fine.

“He’s shedding. You know how he gets.”

Wynonna pulls the door closed and a cloud of dog hair rises. “A cop with a German Shepard. That’s real ‘Rin Tin Tin’ of you.”

Nicole ignores her and slides in the tape she made for the drive to the city. The opening notes of Tom Petty’s “Running Down a Dream” float out of the speakers, wraps around her, and breezes out of the windows. Wynonna leans in and taps on dashboard. Nicole grins at Wynonna. Wynonna closes her eyes and sings, her voice too high and off-key. The only thing missing is Waverly.

_ But not for long,  _ Nicole thinks.

She backs down the driveway and pulls alongside the curb, waiting as Gus starts Curtis’s old Ford and backs it out of the garage.

_ “It was a beautiful day, the sun beat down _ ,” Tom Petty sings. “ _ I had the radio on, I was drivin’.” _

Gus starts backing down the driveway and Nicole shifts the Bonneville back into drive.

Someone starts honking behind her and Nicole taps the brakes quickly. Wynonna jerks forward slightly. “What the,” Nicole breathes out.

A white ‘93 Mercedes Benz 190 pulls up next to her. Chrissy Nedley is hanging out the window, her hair tamed and long. Perry Crofte leans forward in the driver’s seat, his starched collars standing tall around his neck. His slips his Raybans off and adjusts the sweater on his shoulders as he waves.

“Did you think you were leaving without all of us?”

Nicole frowns and looks back at Wynonna. She looks at Chrissy. “What do you mean, ‘ _ all of us _ ’?”

Chrissy hooks her thumb back behind the car.

Nicole looks in her rearview mirror. She feels her eyes widen. She twists in her seat to get a better look: a dozen or more cars are stretched out along Homestead Ave, people hanging out of their windows.

She can see Dolls, in his sweater and his own Raybans, and Jeremy, a sweatervest on, sitting next to him in Dolls’s Chevrolet Monte Carlo; Doc on his Vincent Black Lightning motorcycle, in his Blue Devils jacket; Fish and Levi, both in blue, sitting close together in the Indy Pace truck; Shorty in his old Ford with the busted headlight she keeps telling him to replace; Mercedes and Nathan, making out in the front seat of Mercedes’s Imperial while all the cars are stopped; Rosita in her ‘91 Mustang convertible and her sunglasses; Cecil and Frida, the old couple from the diner who only want Waverly to wait on them and overtip her every time, in their ‘82 Volkswagon Rabbit; and Linda in her Oldsmobile Cutlass Cruiser, Cub hanging out of the backseat window.

“What the…”

Chrissy scoffs at her. “Did you think you were the only nerds going to Waverly’s graduation?” She rolls her eyes. “As  _ if _ .”

Nicole looks at Wynonna again. “Did you know about this?”

Wynonna shrugs, turning in her seat to look at the line of cars. “No,” she breathes out. She laughs softly. “Makes sense, though. Waverly is this town’s biggest success.”

Nicole looks back in the rearview. Past Linda’s Oldsmobile, she can see even more cars she doesn’t immediately recognize, though she does see Bill Lippencott’s unregistered Ford pickup. She can make out signs, the kind they hang from the doors when the whole town drives out to a football game. Tom Petty fades out into John Mellencamp’s “Rumbleseat” and Nicole shakes her head back and forth in disbelief. Gus honks at her. Nicole nods and waves and puts the car into drive.

She turns the radio up and sings every song, Wynonna playing dashboard drums and air guitar next to her. From Bruce Springsteen’s “Pink Cadillac” and Eddie Money’s “Take Me Home Tonight” and The Clash’s “Car Jamming” and “I Ran So Far” by Flock of Seagulls, that line of cars follows her, snaking through Purgatory and out of town towards the city, down the long stretch of highway.

When they park on the grass field next to the stadium where all the graduation signs are posted, Nicole gets out of her car and watches in awe as everyone parks. She counts 22 cars in total, all with banners and blue streamers sticking out of their windows and hanging from their trunks. Half of Purgatory smiles and waves and claps her on the shoulder as they go take over an entire side of the bleachers. Gus comes up beside her, leaning against her side.

“She did it,” Gus breathes out. “She really did it.”

“Yeah, she did. She really did.” She pulls at her shirt, suddenly not as confident in the skinny black necktie knotted at her throat. She hastily loosens the knot and undoes the top button of her shirt. Her sleeves are already rolled, but she double-checks them anyway. She exhales and checks her reflection in her car window.  _ Much better _ , she thinks.

“I’m real proud of her,” Gus says, cutting through Nicole’s worry. “She went out of her comfort zone and she left home and everything she knows and loves. She made us all real proud.” She pauses. “Curtis would of been real proud.”

Nicole feels her eyes burn and she turns her head against the feeling, blinking quickly a few times before she turns back to Gus.

Gus is shaking her head. “Don’t you do that, Nicole Haught.”

Nicole straightens up, the words ‘yes, ma’am’ on the tip of her tongue. She frowns. “Do what?”

“I still cry over him,” Gus says. She’s looking across the field, at the sun reflecting off the tops of rows of cars. “Especially right before the big things.”

“You do?” Nicole asks quietly.

“Damn right I do,” Gus says firmly. “Like when you and Wynonna graduated high school. I didn’t think she would, you know. Curtis was the one always tellin’ me not to underestimate that girl. And look at her now. Taking night classes and actually  _ helping _  me at The Patch.”

Nicole grins crookedly, her eyes finding Wynonna easily in the crowd. She’s standing next to a family, all of them in their argyle sweaters and their plaid shorts. They line up to take a picture and she jumps across the background, her arms wide and over her head.

“She’s a real grownup, all right,” Nicole says.

Gus shakes her head affectionately. “Curtis would have loved this. Waverly was always special to him.”

Nicole sighs softly, leaning back against her driver’s door. She curls her fingers, searching for a hangnail to pick at, but stops herself.

“He knew that girl was going places,” Gus continues.

Nicole hesitates, her hand clenching for a moment before she kicks at the ground. The top of her Red Wings pull some of the grass and she glares at the top of her feet. She reaches down to brush the grass off. When she straightens back up, Gus is looking at her. Nicole opens her mouth but closes it again.

“Go ahead,” Gus says kindly.

“Do you think he’d be disappointed if she ends up staying in Purgatory?” she asks, bracing herself for the answer.

_ Purgatory is home _ , Nicole thinks.  _ But so is Waverly _ . In the time is takes her to breathe in, she knows she’ll go wherever Waverly goes - the promise of Sheriff and living in the only place she’s ever known be damned.  _ I’ll go where she goes _ , she tells herself.  _ Faithfully _ .

Gus narrows her eyes and turns to look back towards the bleachers. Nicole follows her gaze; Linda and Cub are the last ones rounding the corner up the stairs and Cub catches them looking. He throws an arm up in the air and waves it wildly. Gus waves back before she looks at Nicole again. “Curtis had a funny way of measuring things. He thought remembering where he left his car keys was a miracle.”

Wynonna pauses on the corner of the bleachers, turning in confusion. Nicole watches the way she scans the crowd, stretching up on the tips of her Chippewa boots. Someone - Doc, Nicole guesses - pulls at her arm and she disappears around the corner.

“But even by his standards,” Gus says softly, her fingers resting on Nicole’s bare arm. Nicole feels herself lean into the touch. “That girl is going places no matter where she puts her roots down.” She squeezes Nicole’s arm until Nicole looks at her. “You hear that, girl?”

Nicole nods wordlessly.

Gus clears her throat.

“I mean, yes, ma’am,” Nicole stutters. “I hear you.”

Gus nods sharply and starts towards the bleachers. She stops and looks back over her shoulder. “Well? You comin’, or what?”

Nicole blinks a few times, shaking her head gently. “Right. Yeah. I’m coming.”

“Would hate for you to have ironed that shirt three times for nothing,” Gus mutters.

“ _ Goddamit _ ,” Nicole hisses.

 

-

“There,” Waverly says, sitting back against the front bench seat of Nicole’s car. She looks at the tassle she just roped around the rearview mirror before turning and giving Nicole a large smile. “Now you have  _ both _  of them.”

Nicole shifts in her seat, her untucked and unbuttoned white shirt hanging loose. Her white undershirt pulls slightly as she switches her hand, resting her left wrist on the top of the steering wheel so she can reach over and run her fingers against the soft strands of blue embroidery floss. “It’s perfect, baby.”

Waverly presses her lips to Nicole’s cheek, one hand on Nicole’s neck to steady herself. She’s twisted on the front seat, her feet tucked up under her body. She’s still in her graduation gown, cap pinned down to her head. She had unwound the tassle from the cap as soon as they slid into the car, letting Nicole get on the road before she leaned in and looped it around the rearview mirror.

Nicole adjusts the mirror now, looking back at the long line of cars behind her.

Waverly turns and props her chin on the back of the seat, sighing. “I still can’t believe so many people came.”

“You’re kind of a big deal.” Nicole rests her hand on Waverly’s knee, scratching at the cheap polyester gown. She bunches the fabric up into her hand until she frees one of Waverly’s bare legs. “Are you…” She swallows heavily. “Are you wearing anything under that?”

Waverly winks.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Nicole breathes out.

“I’m kidding.” Waverly pulls the gown up a little higher, showing the hemline of the sundress she’s wearing. “Eliza let me borrow this. I packed everything else up.”

“That small duffle bag you gave me earlier is in the backseat.”

Waverly grins and twists, leaning over the bench to reach blindly for the black bag Nicole had tossed into the car earlier. She sits back down and unzips it, rifling through it.

Nicole checks the rearview mirror again. Curtis’s old truck is right behind her, Gus at home behind the wheel. Wynonna had decided to ride with Doc, wrapped tight around him as he weaved through the graduation traffic and out onto the road; they’ll get to Purgatory long before anyone else. Nicole is cruising below the speed limit, hyper-aware of half of the town following behind her.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Waverly sighs. “I love this song.” She leans into Nicole’s side, her bag forgotten as she reaches for the radio dial.

Nicole throws her arm across the back of the bench, her fingertips brushing Waverly’s shoulder. “You know this is a cover, right? Van Morrison wrote and sang this song in-”

Waverly presses a finger over Nicole’s mouth, stopping her. “Stop being a music snob, for once, and just let me enjoy this song.” She replaces her finger with her mouth, kissing Nicole softly to ease the sting of the words.

“ _ And the wind catches your feet, _ ” Waverly sings along. She stretches her arm out, letting the easy breeze through the open passenger window catch the ends of her graduation gown. “ _ And send you flying, crying _ .”

Nicole rolls her eyes but sings, “ _ Ooh wee _ .”

Waverly claps excitedly and shimmies in her seat. “ _ Wild night is calling _ .”

“ _ Alright _ ,” Nicole adds.

Waverly’s eyes close, her hands busy in front of her as she plays air guitar. She stretches back against Nicole, her legs out in front of her as the material of her gown rubs frictionless against the leather bench seat. Her head ends up in Nicole’s lap, and she’s still playing, singing along with  Me'Shell Ndegeocello. She opens her eyes suddenly, as Nicole is smiling down at her, and the look in her eyes hits Nicole like a punch to the gut.

She thinks back to the moment she saw this car, sitting on the lawn with the For Sale sign in the front window, and she knows  _ this _  is why she needed a car; this exact moment, with Waverly’s head in her lap, and the windows down, singing along to John Mellencamp on the radio, their future stretching out in front of them like Highway 2.  

Someone honks behind her, and she looks up quickly, jerking the wheel slightly to keep her car on the road. She drops one hand quickly, holding Waverly tight to her body as she straightens her front end, sucking in a sharp breath.

Waverly laughs, her head pressed back into Nicole’s thigh, curling up into the leather. She’s still singing, still smiling, still threading her fingers into the bottom of Nicole’s untucked button down, and Nicole is still so in love.

“ _ All the girls walk by, dressed up for each other _ ,” Waverly keeps singing, walking her fingers across Nicole’s stomach. She grins. “You dressed up for me.”

Nicole flushes softly. “I just had this in my closet.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Tucked in behind all your flannel?”

“Hey,” Nicole starts to protest.

Waverly sits up, running her hand from the band of Nicole’s Casio to the bottom of her rolled sleeve, just above her elbow. “I’m teasing. You dressed up for me and it was so, so sweet of you.” She keeps her hand moving, up Nicole’s arm, kneading at her shoulder. “When I looked up and saw you on the bleachers in this shirt and that tie, I almost left my seat.”

Nicole snorts. “No, you didn’t.”

“I did!” Waverly insists. She fingers the collar of Nicole’s shirt. “I don’t know what I like better. You in your uniform, or you in a white button down, tucked in the way you do it, with that black skinny necktie on.” She skips her fingers along the pulse point in Nicole’s neck. “That top button undone and that perfect little knot.” She sighs heavily in Nicole’s ear. “Actually, I think that’s the look I like best.”

Nicole swallows heavily. “Baby,” she manages to say, her throat tight. “I’m  _ driving _ .”

Waverly’s teeth graze her ear. “You’ll make a good Sheriff one day, with observation skills like that.”

Nicole groans and tilts her head away. “Waverly.” She squirms when Waverly’s hand squeezes her thigh. “Waves,” she warns.

Waverly kisses her once, right at the corner of her mouth, and pulls back with a smile. “ _ C’mon out and dance, c’mon out make romance, _ ” Waverly finishes singing. She reaches for her duffle bag again, pulling out a red, black, and white plaid skirt. She tosses it over her shoulder into the backseat.

“What’re you doing?” Nicole asks. She switches lanes and watches the parade of vehicles behind her follow.

“Changing.” Waverly digs a pair of Eastland loafers with the curly laces out, tossing them into the back. She pulls out a denim vest and patterned silk shirt that Nicole remembers her buying the last time they drove to the city together. Each one goes into the backseat.

“Changing where?”

Waverly looks over her shoulder pointedly. “Back there.” She tugs off the heeled loafers she’s wearing, putting them back in her bag.

“I’m driving,” Nicole repeats.

“I’m not,” Waverly says. She unzips her graduation gown, letting it pool at her waist.

Nicole glances over, momentarily distracted by the smooth, bare skin of Waverly’s shoulders. She trails one finger along the curve of her collarbone and down to her shoulder blade. Waverly is here, within reach. Nicole can stretch out her arm and touch the tip of Waverly’s nose or run a hand across her knee or press a kiss to the side of her neck.

“Move over a little,” Waverly tells her. She kneels on the front seat and winks at Nicole before she bends and climbs. Her elbow catches Nicole in the neck and one of her feet crosses too close to Nicole’s face for her comfort. She lands in the backseat with a soft huff.

Nicole glances in the rearview mirror, the whole thing taken up by Waverly. She checks her side mirror; Gus is frowning at her car, tapping the steering wheel to a song Nicole can’t hear. She looks back into her rearview just as Waverly slides one of the straps of the sundress off her shoulder.

“Whoa, baby,” Nicole starts.

Waverly looks up, her thumb hooked under the other strap. “What?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes,” Waverly says slowly.

“In my back seat.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Waverly says, winking.

Nicole feels her face flush. She pulls at the collar of her white undershirt.

Waverly leans up over the seat back, her breath hot in Nicole’s ear. “Hopefully it won’t be the last, either.”

Nicole chokes on the next inhale, coughing the air back up. “Uh…”

Waverly blows her a kiss and sits back down, sliding the sundress straps completely off her shoulders. Nicole can hear the zipper on the side coming down over the sound of the Rolling Stones singing “Start Me Up”. She glances back in the rearview again and Waverly is staring back at her.

“What?” she asks.

Waverly tips her head to the side and smiles slowly. “It’s not like you’ve never seen all of this before.”

Nicole looks in her side mirror again. “But Gus hasn’t.”

“You’re so cute when your face matches your hair.”

Nicole opens her mouth to argue back, but Waverly peels the top of her sundress off and anything Nicole was going to say dies on the tip of her tongue. She blinks a few times, trying to pull herself together, but it takes everything she has to just to keep her car on the road.

“Baby, can you pass me my bra?” Waverly asks, her voice sugar-sweet.

Nicole’s mouth goes a little dry. She reaches down blindly with one hand, pushing aside Waverly’s gown until she feels the rough canvas of the duffle. She pulls it onto the seat next to her and pulls out Waverly’s bra. She goes to reach back and hand it to Waverly, but her knuckles brush against something soft and warm.

Nicole’s hand grips tight on the steering wheel and the front end of the car swerves. “Shit, Waves,” she hisses, trying to right the car.

Gus honks at her again.

Waverly laughs and takes the bra, sliding it on one arm at a time.

The Eagles come on next, Glenn Frey singing about a girl in a flatbed Ford in Winslow, Arizona. Nicole taps the steering wheel to the beat the banjo lays out. By the time “Take It Easy” closes, Waverly is climbing back into the front seat. Her hair gets in Nicole’s eyes as she settles, but she pulls it over her shoulder and leans back into Nicole’s side.

“Curtis loved that song,” Waverly says quietly.

Nicole turns down “Running Down A Dream” by Tom Petty and drops her arm along the back of Waverly’s shoulders. She turns and presses a long kiss to Waverly’s forehead.

“He did.”

Waverly sighs and leans her head against Nicole’s shoulder. She picks at the denim of Nicole’s jeans. “I wish he had been here today.”

Nicole thinks back to Gus’s eyes as they stood in the grass field, watching half of the town claim the bleachers, their ‘Waverly’ banners and blue streamers and pom poms bright in the afternoon sun. She thinks about the way Gus leaned into her for a moment. Her mind stretches back even further, to that night at The Patch and the way Gus had collapsed into her side; how she had held Gus up and felt so, so far away from Curtis.

Earlier, when Gus leaned in, she had felt like Curtis was right on her other side, clapping her on the shoulder and telling her he was so proud of the woman she had turned into; so proud of the women she helped make Waverly and Wynonna become.

“I think he was, baby,” she breathes out into Waverly’s hair.

Waverly’s hand goes tight against her knee. “Yeah?” she asks, her voice barely loud enough to hear over Tom Petty’s.

Nicole looks back in her rearview mirror at Curtis’s '75 Ford F-150, still cherry red in the sunlight. Gus singing along to something - probably the old Fleetwood Mac tape Gus put back into the deck and never took out.

“Yeah,” Nicole says again. “I do.”

 

-

The Patch is empty when Nicole opens the door for Waverly, letting her step past her into the dining room.

Waverly sighs, obviously disappointed. “No one’s here.”

Nicole runs a hand through her hair and looks around. “This is where Gus said to meet.”

Waverly sighs again. “I guess we can just go back to the house and check there.” She reaches for Nicole’s hand. “Come on.”

They take two steps back towards the front door when Waverly pauses, tipping her head to the side. “What’s that?”

Nicole frowns. “What’s what?”

Waverly opens her mouth to say something but Styx comes bounding out from the small dog door Gus cut into the kitchen door for him, his paws skidding on the tile. He comes to a sliding stop at Waverly’s feet, rolling onto his back, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Styx!” Waverly shouts, dropping to her knees. She scratches his belly first, her hands running through his fur. “Hey, boy. Who’s a good boy? Who?”

“Goddamn mutt,” Gus says, kicking open the kitchen door. “Ruined the whole damn surprise.” She looks down at Styx. “I’m throwing out that slice of cake I made special for you.”

Styx rolls his tongue to the other side of his mouth and licks Waverly’s hand.

“Come on out, everyone,” Gus calls.

The kitchen and bathroom door open, people flooding into the dining room, clapping and cheering for Waverly. The door behind them chimes as it opens, more people coming in. Waverly stands slowly, Styx rising with her and sitting at her feet. Nicole slips her hand into Waverly’s, squeezing softly.

“This is... “ Waverly looks around. “This is for me?”

“Yeah,” Wynonna says, coming to a stop in front of them. “You deserve it. You… I’m-” She stops, sucking in her bottom lip.

“I know,” Waverly says kindly, giving Wynonna the out.

Wynonna clenches one hand into a fist, grinding her back teeth together hard enough that Nicole can see her jaw lock into place. People are still clapping and cheering around them, having their own conversations, calling out Waverly’s name. Nicole feels like she’s underwater - she knows there are people surrounding them; she can hear them and feel their body heat pressing at her back. But they feel so far away and out of reach right now. It’s just her and Waverly and Wynonna in a bubble. The jukebox is lit up where it sits against the wall and it’s playing a song that sounds like “Have A Little Faith In Me”. Wynonna sighs and looks away, and then she takes a deep breath, shaking her head as she looks back at Waverly.

“I’m proud of you,” she says, her voice tight.

Waverly’s cheeks flush. “Thank you,” she says softly.

Wynonna nods sharply, then lunges forward, throwing her arms around Waverly’s neck. Her fist catches Nicole in the neck and she drops Waverly’s hand, surprised. She rubs at her neck, and takes a step back.

Wynonna holds onto Waverly, her eyes squeezed shut and her whole body tense. Waverly’s hands hover above Wynonna’s back for a minute before they settle, rubbing small circles against the leather of Wynonna’s jacket. After another minute, Wynonna pulls back, immediately shoving one hand into the pocket of her jeans. She reaches up with the other, cradling the back of Waverly’s head.

“I love you, baby girl,” she murmurs against Waverly’s forehead. She pulls back, flicks her pointer finger against Nicole’s forehead, and pushes through the small crowd closing in on them.

Waverly stares at her back as it disappears into the crowd.

Nicole opens her mouth to complain, but snaps it shut when she hears Wynonna’s voice again.

“Outta my way, Carl Junger,” she says above the dull roar of the diner. “Or I’ll hose you down with Orange Crush.”

Waverly’s lips twitch. “There she is - the Wynonna we all know and love.”

“She  _ flicked _  me,” Nicole whines.

Waverly turns to her. “Poor baby.”

Nicole rubs at the spot on her forehead. “It hurt.”

Waverly locks one hand behind Nicole’s neck, lifts up on her toes, and presses her lips to Nicole’s forehead. “All better,” she says as she pulls back.

Nicole ducks her head, looking at the floor for a second. When she looks back up, Waverly has been swallowed up by the people congratulating her. She meets Nicole’s eyes over Chrissy Nedley’s shoulder and mouths ‘sorry’ before going back to her conversation.

Nicole feels a wet snout against her hand and she grins down at Styx. She drops to one knee and scratches behind his ears.

“How was the graduation?” Nedley asks as he comes up next to her. He’s holding a half-eaten hot dog in one hand, a large glass of Surge in the other.

“Chrissy know you’re eating that?” she can’t help but ask, standing. Styx bumps his nose against her leg, resting his head on the side of her knee.

Nedley narrows his eyes. “Is she going to find out?”

Nicole puts her hands up in surrender. “Not from me, sir.”

“That’s why you’re the smartest officer I have,” he says, his mouth full of hot dog.

Nicole snorts. “It’s not like I have much competition.”

Nedley stares her down. “Doesn’t mean you’re not rising to the occasion. Or that I’m wrong,” he adds. He drains half of his soda in one swallow. “How old are you, Haught?”

“23, sir.”

He nods slowly. “You’ve been working for me for how long?”

Nicole squints, chewing on her lower lip as she thinks. “Just over 5 years, I think.”

Nedley puts down his glass on a nearby table. He slowly lowers what’s left of his hot dog to Styx’s eye level. Nicole looks down at Styx. He looks at the hot dog and then back at Nicole, his snout twitching slightly.

Nicole sighs and nods.

Nedley smirks and pulls the hot dog out of the bun. “Wait,” she tells Styx. He picks off a piece of relish. Styx’s tail thumps against the floor as Nedley holds the hot dog in front of him, grinning proudly up at Nicole when Styx goes completely still, a picture perfect hold.

“Eat,” Nedley commands, dropping the hot dog.

Styx grabs it out of the air and swallows it quickly.

Nicole scratches the top of Styx’s head, wiping her hand on her jeans when he licks it.

“I’m getting old,” Nedley says.

Nicole frowns. “I’m sorry, sir?”

He snorts. “Don’t be sorry. It’s just what happens. I’m in my 60’s, you know. Getting up each morning and putting on this uniform is harder and harder.”

Nicole scans the crowded diner for Waverly, spotting her by the counter. Cub Doucette is sitting on a stool in front of her. “You look good in it, though,” she says kindly.

“I don’t like you because you’re a suck up, Haught,” Nedley says. “You’re smart. Focused. You like the facts and you’ve got a good gut for instinct.”

Nicole flushes, scratching at the back of her neck. Her button down suddenly feels too warm, her collar too starched. Styx’s fur covers her jeans and not for the first time, she curses her decision to get a purebreed German Shepherd.

“I told you, back before you left for the Academy, that the city was good, but there would always be a place for you at home. Here in Purgatory,” he adds.

Nicole nods dumbly.

“I’ve got about 5 years left in me, I think.” He scans the diner, narrowing his eyes as he finds Chrissy and Perry by the jukebox, Perry’s arms low around Chrissy’s waist. “I’m going to need a replacement when I’m done.”

“Sir-”

“I know you’ve been ignoring me all the other times I’ve mentioned it,” Nedley says, interrupting her.

Her face goes even hotter.

“But I can’t afford to kid around much longer,” he continues. “So come Monday, when you’re back in the station, I want to know how you feel about me becoming your mentor.”

Nicole’s eyes move through the crowd, searching for Waverly. She’s moved across the room, standing with Shorty and Mercedes and Nathan. She looks up at Nicole, giving her a soft smile and a slight wave of her fingers before Nathan says something and she turns, laughing and smiling widely at Shorty.

_ I’ll go wherever you go _ , she thinks again.  _ I’ll go to Calgary or California or I’ll go out to Crocket’s Corner on the edge of town and buy a plot of land. _

She doesn’t know where they’re going to go from here, but she knows that where Waverly decides to go, Nicole is going to follow. They’ve been apart for four years, almost 650 days, and Nicole isn’t willing to spend a single minute more without Waverly.

She nods at Nedley. “I’ll let you know, sir.”

Nedley stares at her for a moment before he decides her answer is good enough for now. He picks up his glass and finishes the rest of his Surge. “Oh,” he says, pointing at her. “I know Waverly is home now, but don’t think that means that mutt is allowed to miss his days at the station.”

Nicole snorts, but immediately nods seriously. “Of course, sir.”

“He still needs to be there on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays.”

“He’s not actually a canine officer,” Nicole feels the need to point out.

Nedley glares at her. “Are you going to be the one to tell him that?”

Nicole looks down at Styx. He tips his head to one side, his ears perked up. “No, sir,” she tells Nedley.

He nods again and slips into the crowd.

It takes a while to get back to Waverly. Styx stays by her side, sitting at attention on the toes of her Red Wings as she talks to Linda and Jeremy and Dolls. She moves from one end of the room to the other, always missing Waverly.

She ends up trapped against the jukebox, Mercedes walking her fingers up the platt of Nicole’s shirt, tapping her fingernails against the buttons.

“You look good, Loverboy,” she says. She looks back over her shoulder at Nathan, leaning against a table, looking bored. “Doesn’t she, babe?”

Nathan shrugs.

The pale yellow neon from the jukebox reflects off the shiny engagement ring on Mercedes’s finger. Nicole looks at her older brother.

“Have I told you yet this week how much of a bad idea marrying this woman is?”

Nathan shrugs again, reaching out to wrap his arm around Mercedes’s waist. “You probably did. And just like every time before it, I ignored you.”

Nicole groans. “You guys are the worst.”

“They really are,” Waverly agrees, wrapping her hand around Nicole’s arm. She lifts up onto her toes and presses her lips against Nicole’s.

Mercedes opens her mouth to say something back, but Gus appears out of nowhere and clears her throat. Mercedes lifts an eyebrow and presses her hands against Nathan’s chest, edging him back into the crowd.

“Hey, girl.”

Waverly grins widely and throws her arms around Gus.

Gus pats her on the back and slowly pulls out of the hug. “Okay, honey. Just let me get through this.”

“Through what?” Waverly asks, frowning. She reaches back blindly for Nicole’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

Gus gives her an envelope. “It ain’t much, but Curtis always said he was keeping this for you. Don’t spend it all in one place, you hear me?”

Waverly lets go of Nicole’s hand, and opens the envelope slowly, her eyes widening as she looks inside. Nicole frowns and leans over, peering into the envelope. Waverly closes it and stretches her arm out, trying to give Gus the envelope back. “I can’t take this.”

Gus takes a step back. “It isn’t mine. Curtis had been putting this aside for you since you first picked up a tray. I kept adding to it after he died. I wasn’t able to put as much as he would have liked, I’m sure. But I did what I could.”

Waverly takes a step forward, her arm still outstretched. “I can’t take it.”

“It’s from Curtis,” Gus says firmly. “And you will take it. Buy that damn dog of yours all the steak in the world, for all I care. Move to the States. Get yourself a car. But you’re taking it.” She takes a few steps back, putting a few chairs between them. “Don’t try to give it back. Just…”

Waverly sets her shoulders like she’s going to follow after Gus. Nicole looks hard at Gus, backlit by the soft neon in the windows, and she thinks she can see a shine to Gus’s eyes, wetness in the corners. She reaches out and closes her hand around Waverly’s wrist gently, tugging her back.

“Baby,” she says softly. “Just let her do this.”

Waverly opens her mouth like she’s going to argue back, but Nicole squeezes again. Waverly’s mouth closes silently.

Gus meets Nicole’s eyes, nods gratefully, and turns on her heel, clicking her tongue for Styx to follow. The kitchen door swings shut behind them, rocking back and forth softly before it comes to a stop.

“This is a lot of money,” Waverly breathes out. She pulls her arm free from Nicole’s grip, and thumbs open the envelope. “Like, a lot.”

Nicole nods. “And it’s yours,” she says.

Waverly looks up. “It’s ours.”

Nicole shakes her head. “No, it’s yours.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Waverly says.

“I think that’s only if you’re married,” Nicole offers.

Waverly narrows her eyes. “Aren’t we getting married some day?”

Nicole freezes.

Waverly puts one hand on her hip, her eyes still narrowed. “ _ Aren’t _  we?”

“You-” Nicole swallows. “You want to marry me?”

Waverly’s eyes soften. She grabs for Nicole’s waist, sliding her fingers into the belt loop of Nicole’s jeans. She slips the envelope into Nicole’s back pocket before she steps back, her fingers still threaded through denim loops, and pulls Nicole towards the kitchen door. She keeps pulling, through the kitchen and past the walk-in, out the door and towards the stacks of milk crates that pile up throughout the month until the delivery truck takes them back. She sits Nicole down on a milk crate.

The crate is caked in dirt and there will be patterned lines on her clean jeans, but Waverly has that look on her face, the one that means she wants Nicole’s undivided attention. Her jeans will have to wait; she’s sure she had a backup pair in the car.

Waverly paces back and forth, her Eastland’s silent against the loose gravel and cracked pavement. She runs a hand through the top of her hair, and the ends flutter out behind her fingers. She had put bobby socks on under her loafers, and they cling to her calves, flexing with each measured step. It’s Waverly’s  _ I’m trying to figure out what to say _  walk: three steps, turn, three steps back.

A part of Nicole, the one still stuck in high school, between the static of a Tears for Fears cassette, shouts that Waverly is going to break up with her; Waverly is going to tell her she doesn’t ever want to get married; Waverly is going to say she wants to move out to the city, alone.

Another part of Nicole tells that first part to  _ can it _ .

“Do you love me?” Waverly asks.

“Yes,” Nicole says firmly.

Waverly nods. She keeps pacing - three steps, turn, three steps, turn, three steps, turn. She stops, opens her mouth, and closes it again, starting her rhythm all over. Nicole counts to ten before Waverly stops a second time.

“And I love you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Waverly gives Nicole a withering look and pushes her hair out of her eyes. “I’m trying to be serious, Nicole.”

Nicole waves a hand at Waverly. “Then stop pacing because you’re making me dizzy.”

Waverly steps in towards her, draping her arms loosely around Nicole’s neck. “We keep avoiding this conversation,” she says quietly, her breath soft and hot against Nicole’s cheek.

Nicole walks her fingers along the small of Waverly’s back. She absently tucks her shirt into the top of her plaid skirt.

“I’m done. I graduated. And now we can start the rest of our lives.  _ Together _ .”

Nicole picks at her thumb for a moment and then shakes her hand out. She narrows her eyes and peers down at Waverly. “And that’s what you want?”

“I think it’s the only thing I’ve wanted since the first time you kissed me,” Waverly breathes out.

Nicole swallows. “Oh.”

Waverly splays her fingers out against Nicole’s neck, letting them curl under the collar of her shirt. “I want to marry you someday, if that’s something you want to do.”

“I think it’s the only thing I’ve wanted since the first time I saw you,” Nicole admits.

Waverly’s cheeks flush. “Oh.”

“Where you go, I go,” Nicole breathes out. “We can- We can move to Ontario, if you want. Or somewhere in the States. I mean, I’d move to South Africa if you wanted me to.” She tips her head to one side. “All I need is  _ you _ . And my cassette collection.”

“I’m buying you a discman for Christmas,” Waverly mumbles.

Nicole steps back a half a foot, letting her hands slide off Waverly’s hips. “I swear, if you buy me one of those electronic pieces of nonsense-”

Waverly grabs for Nicole’s waist, pulling her in again. “Stop it. Stop it. Someday, you’ll have to join the world in the future, you know.”

“Not today,” Nicole murmurs, ducking her head and kissing Waverly softly. She strokes her thumbs against the silk of Waverly’s shirt, losing herself in the kiss for a minute. She can feel Waverly’s hands slide from her neck to the back of her head, weaving her fingers through the strands of hair. “Right now,” she says, pulling back. Her lips bump Waverly’s as she talks. “Right now I just want to be here with you.”

Waverly kisses her again, her tongue edging against Nicole’s lips before sliding into her mouth. Her hands are hot against Nicole’s neck as she curls her fingers and pulls Nicole closer. The corners of the milk crate she’s sitting on cut into the back of her legs, but Waverly’s hands are soothing as they wind through her hair, under her chin, up her cheeks. Nicole kisses her hard, her own hands flexing against Waverly’s hips as she parts her legs to pull Waverly against her.

She hears Waverly hum into her mouth, fitting her hips against Nicole’s. Waverly’s hands slide, finding the top, undone button of Nicole’s shirt. They glide down to the next button, slipping it loose. Her hands are quick and light and she pushes the white button down off of Nicole’s shoulders.

Nicole’s arms get stuck, the rolled sleeves tight around her elbows for a second before she manages to get it off. She laughs into Waverly’s mouth, their lips sliding together. Waverly’s hands drift under her t-shirt, her fingernails scratching against her skin. Nicole’s arms tighten around Waverly’s waist. She lets a hand drop lower, rubbing against the polyester of her skirt. She lets it drift down to the bare skin of Waverly’s leg, just below her hemline.

Waverly sighs against her mouth. “I missed you.”

Nicole kisses a line up Waverly’s jawline. “I missed you, too, baby.”

A car backfires on the street and Waverly startles, her nails digging into Nicole’s skin sharply. She laughs softly and drops her forehead to Nicole’s shoulder. Nicole runs her hands back up over Waverly’s skirt and lets them settle on her waist.

Nicole leans in again but Waverly pulls back.

“Wait.” She takes a deep breath. “I saw you talking to Nedley.”

Nicole nods silently.

“About being the Sheriff someday?”

Nicole nods again. Waverly’s hands flex against her hips and Nicole sighs. “It’s not really that big of a deal. He wants to know if I want to start working with him, to train and be his successor.” Nicole shrugs. “It’s not a-”

“Don’t you  _ dare _  say it’s not a big deal,” Waverly says sharply. “That’s a  _ huge _  deal. I’m so, so proud of you.”

Nicole shrugs again, but doesn’t fight the smile pulling at her lips. “He told me to come in on Monday with an answer. He says he has, like, five years left in him. And after that… Well. I guess  _ I’d _  be Sheriff.” She snorts. “Huh. I would be  _ Sheriff _ .”

Waverly grins widely back at her.

Nicole feels her smile fade. “But we haven’t really figured out what we’re doing. Now that you’ve graduated, I mean.”

Waverly pulls her hands out from under Nicole’s shirt and smoothes one down Nicole’s front. Her other hand slips into the front pocket of Nicole’s jeans, plucking at the fabric. “That school I did some hours at, teaching? You remember it? They had that one teacher, they called him The Vulture?”

Nicole thinks about it. “Yeah, I think.”

Waverly’s fingers twist the hem of Nicole’s shirt up into a knot. She lets go and it stays bunched, wrinkled. Nicole swallows, hard.

“They called me last night and offered me The Vulture’s position,” Waverly says, peeking up at Nicole through her eyelashes.

Nicole feels her stomach fall out. She grinds her back teeth together and looks away, cursing her stupidity.  _ Of course _  Waverly wants to go somewhere other than Purgatory. It’s a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Now that she got a taste of the city, there’s no reason why she would want to stay in  _ Purgatory _ , the same town she’s lived her whole life. Not when there’s a whole world out there to explore.

She takes a deep breath.  _ It’s fine, it’s fine _ . She tells herself. She knows she can go somewhere else, work her way through the ranks. She might never be  _ Sheriff _ , but Nedley was right; she’s smart and she’s focused and she tries really, really hard at what she does. She takes another deep breath.

“Okay,” she finally says. “When do they want you to start? At the end of the summer? Or do you need to be there before that?” She starts running through a list of things she needs to do in her head. “I’ll need some time to talk to Nedley. And we should find somewhere to live and-” She stops when she notices Waverly staring at her. “What?”

“You’re willing to just pack up our lives and move to the city with me?”

Nicole blinks a few times. “Well. Yeah,” she breathes out. “If that’s what you want.”

Waverly’s eyes go soft. “I want to be with you.”

Nicole nods sharply. “Then we’ll go wherever you want.”

Waverly’s fingers start to fidget again, moving from the bottom of Nicole’s shirt and pocket of her jeans to the back of her head, twisting the strands of her hair gently. “What if I want to stay here?”

Nicole tips her head to one side. “What?”

“What if I want to stay here?” Waverly asks again.

“In Purgatory?”

“Unless we’ve been in living in Camrose all this time,” Waverly says flatly.

Nicole squeezes Waverly’s waist.

“Sorry,” Waverly breathes out. She straightens up slightly, setting her shoulders. “Richard Moody - did  _ you _  know his first name was Richard?” She doesn’t wait for Nicole’s answer. “Moody called me just after Christmas, after we ran into him at the movies. Do you remember?”

Nicole nods. “We saw  _ Tombstone _ . He was seeing  _ Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit _ .”

Waverly makes a face at her. “Why do you-” She shakes her head. “Nevermind. He called me when I got back to school after the break and told me that Cryderman was finally retiring.”

Nicole nods silently.

“So he offered me a job,” Waverly says slowly.

“Here?”

“At Purgatory High School,” Waverly says.

“Purgatory High School. Where we went?” Nicole asks.

“The very same,” Waverly says, her lips twitching. “I said  _ yes _ .”

“Yes?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Waverly repeats. “I start in August.”

“In Purgatory?”

Waverly sighs heavily and flicks Nicole in the forehead.

Nicole winces and rubs at the spot. “ _ Hey _ .”

“Baby,” Waverly says slowly. “I need you to listen, okay?  _ Really _  listen. I’m taking a job at Purgatory High School. We’re going to look for apartments this summer. And on Monday, you’re going to go tell Nedley that you want to be his protegee.” She ducks her head until she meets Nicole’s eyes. “If that’s what you want to do?”

“It’s  _ everything _  I want to do,” Nicole admits.

Waverly smiles widely and leans in, kissing Nicole hard. She pulls back, still close enough that Nicole’s nose bumps against hers. “Why’re you so surprised I want to stay in Purgatory?”

Nicole shrugs, kicking at the loose gravel. “You’re so much bigger than this town, Waverly. You deserve…” She exhales noisily. “You deserve to go wherever you want to go. You deserve the whole damn world, and the world is much,  _ much _  bigger than Purgatory.”

“This is the only place that’s ever felt like  _ home _ ,” Waverly admits. “You’re here. Wynonna is here. Gus is here. Curtis… Curtis loved this place. He showed me how to love it, too.”

Nicole looks up slowly. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Waverly breathes out.

Nicole brushes her thumb across Waverly’s cheek and leans down.

“Waverly!” someone shouts from inside The Patch. “We’ve got cake!”

Waverly sighs and picks Nicole’s white button down off the ground. She tries to brush the dirt off it. “I’m sorry, baby. I just got… ahead of myself.”

Nicole flushes. “It’s fine, baby. I have a flannel in the car.”

Waverly slips her hand into Nicole’s. She tugs her back up the steps and into the kitchen. The fryer bubbles and it smells like hot dogs and hamburgers. Nicole can hear Starship’s “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” playing on the jukebox.

“Waverly,” someone-  definitely Wynonna, this time - yells again.

Nicole smiles and kisses Waverly again as they stop in the kitchen, Nicole resting her free hand on the door leading to the dining room. “We better get in there before Styx gets impatient and eats his piece of cake.”

“I thought Gus said she wasn’t giving it to him anymore.”

Nicole snorts. “I’d like to see her try.”

Waverly turns and presses her back against the kitchen door, bracing herself as the door opens slightly. “Ready to get out there?”

“And face the rest of the world with you?”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “You’re such a goon.”

“I’m  _ your _  goon.”

Waverly tugs Nicole closer. “Yeah?”

Nicole brushes her mouth against Waverly’s. “ _ Faithfully _ .”


End file.
